Warte, bitte!
by Dahls
Summary: Ludwig frowned. "...You've been crying again." 6k words of unhappiness, a happy ending. A few side pairings. Involves Holy Roman Empire, France being maimed, and the death of a lamp. Really more serious than I can make it sound.


AN: My first GerIta fic, or any kind of fic for public eyes. Reviews are appreciated, but please be kind with criticism. I worked hard.

**This story contains mild violence and very brief mentions of sexual activities. Nothing too explicit!**

Pairings include GerIta, Spamano, Russ/Pruss, SuFin, and Switzerland/Austria. There's fluff between some of the other couples, but GerIta is really the main slice of cake.

Enjoy! c:

_Update 4/27: I finally fixed the separation between sections. It should make more sense when reading it now, sorry. ;;;_

* * *

"Feliciano? I'm home!"

The Italian blinked, quickly stilling his sobs. "C-Coming! Just a minute...!" His call came too late however, as Ludwig walked into the room right as the brunette attempted to wipe the tears from his eyes.

Ludwig frowned. "...You've been crying again." Feliciano sniffled pathetically in response.

"I-It's nothing, Ludwig...don't worry about it...!" The brunette forced a weak smile. Germany didn't buy it, but when he reached out to try to comfort the smaller man, Feli pulled himself away. "I...I just...need some alone time..." And thus, the small, timid Italian scurried off, leaving the blonde man alone once more.

Ludwig bit back his frustration with the whole situation and let his once-lover leave to wallow in the unknown sorrow.

* * *

Feliciano's wailing could be heard from all the way down the hallway.

The German had asked his brother to try to talk to his lover, but Gilbert didn't seem to be much help. He could hear the occasional comforting words, "Come on Feli, just tell me what's wrong," "We're all here for you, Feli," "We all love you!," but the cries just continued. Sometimes, it seems like his sobbing would just get louder and louder. Finally, Ludwig got fed up with all the madness.

"He's been doing this for days! This is just ridiculous...!" Stomping down the dim hallway, Ludwig threw the door open, ready to scold the Italian for his pathetic behavior. Then he stopped.

Feliciano was sitting on his bed, holding his knees close to his torso, sobbing into his own arms. Gilbert had a gentle hand on the Italian's back, trying to rub soothing circles, but the mourner was clearly trying to pull away from the touch. When Feli looked up and locked eyes with the German, Ludwig noticed his eyes were puffy, swollen, even slightly bloodshot, as if he had been crying for hours on end...which he likely had.

And, despite Ludwig believing it wasn't possible, Feliciano seemed to tear up even more. "I'm sorry, Ludwig...I..." Feliciano attempted to choke back the new round of sobs, but was about to crack. Gilbert tried to hug him, but he stood up and retreated out of the room, brushing past Ludwig, covering his eyes as if not wanting to look at him.

Gilbert and Ludwig could only watch him leave.

* * *

As the stoic German listlessly tidied up the Italian's room, his elder brother watched from the door, arms crossed. "Aren't you going to go after him? It's been nearly three days. What are you waiting for? Praying the moon will come down and crush you?"

Ludwig sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the exhaustion evident in his voice. "Going after him won't help at this point. He won't even talk to me..."

"Do you at least know where he is?" Gilbert walked over to his brother, setting a hand gently on his shoulder. "Even if he says he wants to be alone, he's probably with someone close to him." Even though he was generally loud, brash, and rather obnoxious, the Prussian was taking this as serious business. Feliciano was very dear to his brother. Seeing them fall apart like this was too much, Ludwig was nothing without him.

Hell, the whole household was nothing without the Italian there to breathe life and happiness into everyone. For the past two weeks, the sadness and depression of mysterious origins slowly began to capture Feliciano, and everyone else was succumbing to it as well in return. It was almost like he was dying on the inside. He had began to grow more and more distant from Ludwig, just seeming slightly off here and there, until the overflow of tears began. No matter how many times any of the German brothers had tried to ask him, he had always given the same, '_It's nothing, don't worry about it,_' response and quickly padded away. And now, it had finally proven to be too much for him.

Ludwig pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think through all the frustration and loneliness without an Italian chirping cheerful thoughts into his ear. "I called Spain to have him ask Romano, but neither of them seemed to know...then I asked Lithuania to ask Poland, but they didn't know either. Kiku is clueless as well..." Feliciano got along well with pretty much everyone. It could be a long time before they managed to find out where he really was. "I told England to call off the next World Meeting for now until we could find him."

Gilbert simply nodded. "_Gut_. I'll ask around too." With that, he departed, leaving his successor to his thoughts.

The muscular man sat down on the neatly made bed, flopping backwards and fondly recalling the times when Feli would drag him in and force him to cuddle. Of course, they hadn't actually done anything like that in what felt like forever. Feliciano didn't even want to hold hands when crossing the street anymore. Ludwig draped an arm over his eyes, trying to search for an answer to his lover's actions. Though in reality, they didn't qualify as lovers anymore. Feliciano stopped talking to him, didn't want to sleep in the same bed, continually shut himself away...it was completely out of character for him. So why? Had it been something Ludwig did? Perhaps he should have served pasta a few times more often? Did he go overboard with the potatoes? Did he forget some kind of anniversary? Could he have accidentally gone overboard the last time he finally got Feli to agree to bondage? Maybe he forgot Christmas again? (Unlikely since it was the middle of Spring, but Ludwig was rather oblivious to some of the finer details of Italian celebrations, so it could have well been.)

Locked in thought, Ludwig rolled onto his side and gazed idly at the dresser...and noticed something poking out of the drawer. Reprimanding himself for forgetting to straighten out the dresser, he sat up, opening the drawer and pulling out the mysterious object that turned out to actually be a mysterious note.

'_Feliciano,_

_How have you been? Did you like that bread I made for you the other day? Yeah, I liked it too._

_Anyways! I was cleaning out my storage the other day, spring cleaning and all, you know, I found something you might want to see._

_Come over as soon as you get a chance. It's important. And come alone._

_By the way, it's not your art, so don't even ask! 3'_

Ludwig furrowed his brows slightly. By the handwriting and mention of art, it was likely that the note had come from Francis. But why...? What did Francis have to show Feliciano that he couldn't be there for? He pondered over it for a few moments, his brain racking further and further, and then it dawned on him. Francis must have been torturing Feli behind his back! That's why he was so upset, he didn't want people to find out and he was in pain and...Francis must have been planning an invasion or something!

That had to have been it. Suddenly spurred on by a growing rage, Ludwig sprung up and rushed out of the house, barely remembering to grab a coat and his keys.

It was time to pay a visit to a Frenchman.

* * *

"Nngh! Get off me you- Agghhh! This isn't what I came here for!" Toris flushed slightly and buried his face further into the recipe book, trying to ignore the shouts and groans coming from the other room. He shivered slightly when he heard Ivan chuckle and whisper something too soft to be heard, though whatever he said apparently caused Gilbert to hit Ivan over the head with what sounded like a lamp that was now surely broken and messy and would have to be cleaned up by him. Silently, Toris lamented his life. "You ass! I just wanted to know if you've seen Felicia- Don't put your hands there! Ow! Are you even listening to me?..."

The Lithuanian shyly poked his head in, though not facing the two, afraid of what kind of things he might see. "Um, Mister Prussia..."

Ivan laughed flatly, clearly unamused. "Toris, we're kind of busy right now, if you don't mind."

"B-But..." Toris cleared his throat slightly, staring straight at the wall off to the side with fierce determination. "Italy stopped by Felik's place yesterday."

"He what?" Catching the large Russian off guard, Gilbert wrenched himself away, stomping over to Toris and grabbing his arm. Toris finally looked to him, noticed that the albino's shirt had been half unbuttoned and half just torn open, and that the albino himself was looking rather flustered and disheveled. "I thought you told West that he hadn't been by!"

"G-Germany called a day b-before Italy stopped by! I-Italy had stopped by briefly last night to see if he could stay the night, b-but Feliks has a p-pony in the spare room, a-and he was g-going to go s-shopping and was w-whining about how he c-couldn't just leave some a-alone with his beloved p-pony, s-so Italy said he was g-going to stay with M-Mister A-Austria... I-I was going to c-call, b-but Mister Ivan had asked me to r-run some e-errands, and then when I g-got back I had to start c-cleaning, and then I was r-really tired a-and..." Toris was now quite visibly shaking, suffering under the heated gaze of the Prussian and the malicious stare of the Russian. "I-I'm sorry! I-I w-was going to call as soon as-!"

Gilbert let go of the terrified man and grabbed the nearest lamp, preparing to throw it at the blonde who simply smiled innocently at him from across the room and make another mess for the Lithuania to clean up. Toris prepared to mourn the loss of yet another lamp. "So this is your fault, you bastard! Lithuania could have told us yesterday that Feli was staying with the stupid aristocrat and saved us the trouble!"

Ivan shrugged, never ceasing to smile. "But if I had done that, then you wouldn't have stopped by for this lovely visit~."

"Lovely visit! You call this a lovely visit? You son of a...!" Toris shook his head and retreated out of the room quickly to make tea as Gilbert initiated a long string of German profanities and looked for an object to beat the Russian with. By the time Gilbert had actually called his brother, Ludwig was already at Francis' house. Gilbert decided to go confront Feliciano himself and departed for the Austrian's house.

* * *

Fingers stumbled over piano keys without any hint of grace, missing notes for incorrect ones. "You're not focusing."

Roderich sighed and turned to his Swiss companion next to him on the elegant piano bench. "I can't help it, Basch. There's a lot going on." Basch didn't look remorseful in the slightest.

"It's your fault for letting him in." To this, the aristocrat frowned and furrowed his brows slightly, shooting a disproving glance at the blonde.

"I wasn't just going to leave him to wander around at night. Besides, I still care for him." Basch rolled his eyes and rested his head on Roderich's shoulder, running his fingers over a few keys idly. "It's not like I could just abandon him."

"That's your own fault for always getting involved, you know."

"I know." The two sat in silence for awhile, enjoying each others company until they both turned and looked down the hallway. From the other end, they could hear the soft, muffled sounds of sadness. Roderich raised a brow; the guest room he had allowed Feliciano to sleep in was upstairs. By what he was hearing, it sounded like Feli was going through some of the old storage rooms. Peeling himself away from his lover, the Austrian stood up and proceeded quietly down the hallway, silently pushing the door open so as not to startle the guest. Softly, with obvious care in his voice, he called out to the other. "Feliciano...?"

The brunette flinched before turning towards the intruder. Tears were still streaming down his cheeks, glimmering in the soft light let in by the door in comparison to the dim room. He had a canvas in his arms, pulled close to his chest. Noticing Roderich stare at the canvas, the Italian finally resigned and turned the canvas to him, finally conceding the cause of all of his troubles.

It was the Holy Roman Empire.

On the canvas was the distorted painting of the rabbit he had attempted when Feliciano was teaching him to paint. When they were together and having fun. When he was still around. When he was still...

Roderich immediately pulled the small Italian man into his arms in a tight embrace, allowing him to cry against his chest. Feliciano began to convulse and sob uncontrollably while Roderich did all he could to hold him close and comfort him. The aristocrat ran his delicate hands softly through the soft brown hair, pressing a small kiss to the younger's forehead. "Feliciano..."

"We were supposed to meet again!" The distraught Italian let out a choked sob. "We were supposed to meet again, and then we were going to be together! He promised! And now he's...!" Feliciano began to wail even harder, and Roderich could feel tears start to well in his own eyes at the memory. He held Feliciano even tighter, trying to make him feel secure. "Austria, why...why did Francis...why didn't..." Roderich looked up slightly to look at the Italian face to face, not quite sure how to respond.

"Feliciano...it was war. We were all doing what we had to, and-"

"It isn't fair!" Feliciano pulled himself away, holding the canvas to his chest once more. "We were young! He was young! He...he was just a kid! He had his whole life to look forward to, and you all took it away from him!"

Roderich was bewildered. "Italy..."

While Feliciano continued to take out his anger on Roderich, Basch was proceeding to the door to let in a certain albino who had begun to knock.

* * *

This time when Ludwig punched him, Francis coughed up a bit of blood.

"_S-S'il vous plaît_! Please, _monsieur_...!" Ludwig punched him again, this time knocking the Frenchman onto the ground. "W-Wait a moment, I-!" Not even pausing to listen, the muscular German grabbed Francis by the collar of his expensive silk shirt and shoved him against the wall, kneeing him crudely in the stomach without remorse and causing the slender man to cry out. "Agh...! Please...!"

Matthew sat huddled in the corner, mumbling protests against the blonde who had abruptly stormed in and started beating his 'father' to a pulp for no reason, but was really a bit too terrified to do anything. Especially when earlier, Ludwig had pulled out a familiar looking metal pipe and began beating Francis with it, though thankfully he discarded it quickly, getting much more satisfaction using his bare hands. The Canadian was sure that Ludwig had at least broken his father's arm, and one of his eyes had begun to swell, likely going to turn dark and black soon.

The poor, invisible little fellow let out a small 'eep!' as Ludwig crushed his fist into Francis' stomach. Francis cried out and thrashed in pain, having already been reduced to a quivering mess. Desperate, he began digging for the small bit of German he remembered from war times. "_Halten Sie, bitte! Ich kann nicht...!_"

Hearing the man switch to his language, Ludwig paused, still holding him against the wall. He narrowed his eyes and leaned in. "What did you do to him?

"Eh?" Francis furrowed his brows slightly, trying to understand the question. He laughed a bit hesitantly. "_M-Monsieur_...you're going to have to be more specific... there are a lot of men I've...done things with." Judging by the piercing crack when Ludwig nailed him in the face once more, this time with even more ferocity, Francis made a guess that he had broken his nose this time.

Francis' alarm only grew when the German hand moved from the collar of his shirt to his neck his grip firm and unwavering. "Feliciano. What have you been doing to him?" Struggling against the larger man, desperately afraid for his own safety, Francis screwed his eyes shut, mumbling a soft response. Ludwig shook him. "What did you do?"

"I...I haven't seen him in weeks," the terrified man replied honestly. "I haven't done anything to him."

"_Lügner_! He's been acting screwy and upset ever since he met with you!" Ludwig clenched his hand into a fist, ready to wound the other man once more. "You must have done something to him!"

"It doesn't concern you!" Francis finally cried out, frantically trying to push the German away and protect his own face at the same time. "It's Feliciano's business and his business alone! If he hasn't told you already, he obviously didn't want you to know about him!"

Ludwig loosened his grip slightly, Francis sighing underneath him, finally able to breathe normally. However, Ludwig felt like his lungs were restricting. "Him...? What do you mean him?"

Francis maintained a level gaze, trying to keep calm, though secretly fearing that the German would beat him again. "You love Feliciano, non?"

"I love him more than I love anything else in this world," Ludwig replied, scowling. "I would give anything for him!" He was taken aback slightly when Francis started to chuckle.

"You are not the only one, monsieur. There was another." The two engaged blondes locked eyes, while the third, ignored blonde quietly slipped out.

* * *

Gilbert leaned casually against the door frame, arms crossed cooly. "Hey man. 'Sup?"

Basch stared with a flat gaze, contemplating shutting the door in the Prussian's face. "What do you want?" Gilbert laughed as a response and invited himself in, practically dancing his way into Roderich's home. Roderich often let Gilbert in, despite their constant clashing, so Basch assumed it would be fine to let him continue inside. "I suppose you're looking for Italy, huh." The albino nodded. Sighing to himself, Basch began to lead Gilbert down the hallway, but they both froze when they heard the loud Italian cursing and screaming coming from their destination.

"You could have stopped him! You could have done something!"

"There was nothing I could do, Feliciano, and you know it!"

"You could have _tried_! You...you just let him march out there to his death!"

"Feliciano, just listen-!"

"I can't believe you! Y...You're a monster! All of you! All of you are monsters!" Before Gilbert could even ask, Feli came bursting out of the room and past the two dazed observers, canvas tucked against him under his arm. Roderich tried to follow, but had no hope of catching up to a retreating Italian.

As Feliciano made it into the street after passing through the elaborate doors and gardens, he finally realized that it had begun to rain. He quickly took off his jacket and wrapped it around the precious canvas, careful to preserve it. Of all the things he had already lost, he didn't want to wreck the few things he had to remember his dear love by. He ducked under the cover of a nearby bus stop and flopped onto the bench.

Frustration overcame him, briefly riding out the anger and sorrow. The Italian leaned back, staring up at the darkness of the covering. The sun had just set. It was dark, raining, cold, and he couldn't go home. There was no way he would go back to Roderich's house. Nor Francis', after what he did. He didn't feel like going to his brother's place, and besides, Antonio was involved with the whole thing as well, and there was no doubt he would be with his brother. Feliks had already expressed that he was too busy to take him in, and he didn't want to be a burden to his friend anyhow. No doubt Ludwig would find him at anyone's houses nearby...Feli sighed, tears pricking at his eyes again. Normally, with something like this, he would curl up with Ludwig until all the bad feelings went away, but...

Ludwig looked just like him. Every time he looked at Ludwig's face, he was always reminded a little of his beloved Holy Rome, and even more so now. Being with Ludwig would just make everything more painful.

As Feli sat, contemplating his lack of options and considering sleeping on the bench, a small fellow approached him.

"Eh? Italy? What are you doing here?"

Feliciano looked to the newcomer, eyes wide with surprise. "Huh? F-Finland?"

Contrary to popular belief, despite all the drama going on, other people were going on with their lives, such as the small Finnish man. Tino had decided that he would make something special for Berwald that night, in celebration of their anniversary and their good relationship. Thus, he had gone far out of his way to make sure he picked up the highest quality of cheese he could (within his budget), which was around Austria's house. He had heard from other gossiping countries about Italy's situation and how it was apparently pretty bad, but he certainly did not expect to find Italy abandoned at a bus stop on his way home.

"A-Are you alright?" The Italian looked hesitant, glancing away. The Finnish one, feeling a few heartstrings pulled at the other's sad condition, offered a hand, the other holding his bag of groceries. "You can come over to my place if you want. I'm sure Su-san wouldn't mind."

Astonished, Feliciano stammered, "A-Are you sure? I...I don't...I don't want to be a b-burden..." His eyes began to well up again, but Tino quickly stopped him and grabbed his hand gently.

"It wouldn't be a problem at all." He smiled warmly, helping Feliciano to his feet. "Come on, let's hurry! There's still time to make dinner!"

As Finland and Italy ran off into the night, Roderich explained the situation to an amused Prussian.

* * *

Francis tenderly held a steak against his black eye, moaning slightly as Ludwig dug through the boxes. "Honestly, you didn't have to hit so hard, Allemagne."

Ludwig only grunted in response. Ignoring the French man's musing, he slowly pulled out a faded navy blue cape, gently running his hands over the fabric. Something about it seemed familiar. Hadn't he seen his brother with...ah, his brother must have been friends with the mysterious Holy Roman Empire that seemed to be so popular. Everyone knew about him but Ludwig, it seemed.

"That was just one of his capes," remarked Francis, who now seemed to be deep in thought. "That wasn't the cape he died in."

"I didn't need to know that," muttered Ludwig, setting the cape down. He slowly turned towards the other man. "I don't understand. I thought you killed him a long time ago. Holy Rome's been gone for awhile now, hasn't he...? Why is Feliciano so upset all of a sudden?"

Francis shook his head, walking over to the crates to feel around for himself. "Roderich asked me not to tell him."

"Not to...?"

"They were only children at the time," Francis recalled, gazing off into the distance. "Really, we were all children. We were only doing what our bosses told us to do. But especially Feliciano and that boy...they were both so young compared to the rest of us." He shook his head once more. "Roderich didn't tell Feliciano, and he begged me not to tell him either. Feli was young. It would have broken his spirit." Now Francis laughed coldly, turning back to the German. "So instead, he patiently waited for centuries for a lover that was never coming back."

Ludwig collapsed into a nearby chair. He ran a hand carefully through his hair, trying to smooth it back after it had become disheveled while beating the Frenchman. Francis turned to him, noting how Ludwig had become completely overwhelmed with information.

"How are you feeling? Allemagne?"

"Confused. Frustrated. A bit irritated."

"Oh?" Taking a seat next to Ludwig, Francis smiled coyly, still nursing his eye with his good arm. "Tell me how you're feeling." Truthfully, his main objective was to work his way back onto the German's good side to avoid another violent ass-kicking, but he was also concerned about the relationship between Ludwig and Feliciano. Everyone was happy for the two of them, it would be such a shame for it to fall apart.

"Well...first of all, Feliciano had feelings for another man this whole time?" Francis frowned a bit. "I mean, I know it was a long time ago, but you said he was still waiting...yet, he was together with me, and-"

"Stop right there." Ludwig looked up to the Frenchman, whom had abruptly stood up and who's eyebrows were now creased in growing anger. "This isn't about you, Ludwig. It was never about you. Feliciano's been dealing with these feelings for centuries, and the very first thing you think about is yourself?" Eyes wide with surprise, Ludwig tried to retort, but Francis cut him off once more. "He spent every day of his life waiting for his loved one. He spent so much time smiling and laughing, but underneath it all he was suffering more than the rest of us." Francis now turned away, his furious gaze turned towards the wall. "You're so oblivious, Ludwig. Before the two of you got together, Feliciano talked to me about you."

"A-About...me?" The German questioned, even more surprised. "What about me?"

"He was confused about his feelings for you." Letting out a sigh, Francis sat down once more. "He wanted to wait for Holy Rome, but he also loves you dearly, Ludwig. He's been conflicted ever since he met you." He smiled a bit, almost warmly. "Feliciano even seemed...happier, with you. He still thought about his lost love, but he talked about you day and night, like you were the only one he ever knew."

Ludwig flushed a bit, looking away in embarrassment at his own folly. "This whole time...I thought he was just a simple, cheerful person..."

To this, Francis chuckled a bit. "That's what he wanted you to think. Allemagne, you ought to give him more credit. He's smarter than you think."

* * *

Upon seeing the Swede's face, Feliciano screamed. He screamed and screamed until Tino had to shake him, afraid that Feli would pass out if he didn't stop for air soon. "I-It's okay, Italy! H-He's not going to...he's alright!"

Berwald kept a straight face as his wife helped the Italian man recover. Okay, so maybe he did have a scary face when he was upset, happy, sad, distraught, cheerful, enthused, aroused, enraged...etc., but that was no excuse for Feliciano to barge into his house on the day of his anniversary and start screaming up a storm! So he stood there, seething with rage and irritation...but kept that same blank look, causing his beloved Tino to think that everything was okay.

"See, Italy? It's fine!" Tino tried his best to smile cheerfully, but he had a bad feeling that this wasn't going to end well.

Sniffling pathetically, Feliciano slowly nodded. "T...Thank you, so much...!"

"It's not a problem at all," the Finnish man replied casually, ushering Berwald to the side and leading his guest inside. "There are some towels in the bathroom down the hallways, why don't you go dry yourself off?" Feli nodded once more and bounded down the hallway.

As he left, Berwald grabbed Tino by the arm. "Wh't's 'e d'in' 'ere?" Tino gasped slightly out of fear upon seeing his lover's face, and Berwald instinctively loosened his grip. "'T's 'r 'nniv'rs'ry, 'nd ya go 'bout br'nin' s'me r'nd'm..." The Swede frowned a little bit, but Tino tried not to hold his ground.

"P-Please, Su-san! It's cold and dark and raining outside, and...he's been having such a hard time...he has nowhere else to go! I know it's our anniversary, I was going to make dinner and everything, but...I-I couldn't just leave him on the street!" Just like a wife, Tino decided to pull out the magical puppy-eyes. Berwald was not amused.

The two lovers continued to argue as Feliciano listened quietly from the bathroom, idly drying his hair while wrapped deep in thought. _I'm just being a burden _

_to everyone, huh...?_ He still hurt a lot, sure, but his gentle nature caused the guilt to roll in. The guilt of blaming Roderich and the other's for Holy Rome's death, the guilt of crashing in on Finland and Sweden's anniversary, the guilt of making everyone worry about him- and especially Ludwig. Ludwig was probably so hurt and confused, and Feliciano had been too weak to even explain himself...

A dull thud sounded as Feli hit himself on the head with a soap dispenser. _Stupido!_ He bit his lip, trying to figure out how he was going to sort this all out. After all, it wasn't like he could just go home and casually apologize to everyone, it was too late for that, and he wasn't really ready for forgive them anyhow. But...maybe there were ways he could start to make up for his mistakes.

Forcing a smile onto his face, Feliciano skipped back over to his two hosts, startling the both of them. "It's your guys' anniversary, right? How about I make you a nice, romantic dinner?" Without waiting for confirmation, he picked up the groceries Tino had set down earlier and proceeded into the kitchen, already planning a fantastic meal.

"Well..." started Tino, turning back to his lover. "This works, right? Italy's a good cook, after all...I'm sure he'll stay out of our way."

The Swede mumbled in response. "I'm g'n' c'll G'rm'ny."

"W-What? Why?"

"S' 'e kn'ws t' kn'ck b'fore w'lk'n' 'n." With that, Berwald left into the other room. Tino rolled his eyes and went to go help Italy.

* * *

Waving goodbye to the Frenchman after apologizing profusely, the muscular German made his way out of the other's driveway. What would he do now...? Should he confront Italy? Try to force some comfort and love onto him? That actually worked once in awhile, especially after scary movies, but this was a rather different scenario and...Something had started ringing in his ears while he was deep in thought. A quick glance at the screen of his cell revealed who it was.

Ludwig raised a brow as he answered his phone. "_Hallo, Bruder_."

"Kesesesese~" The blonde pulled the phone away from his ear slightly, twitching a bit. He was tempted to hang up, but... "I've figured out why Feli is so upset!"

Ludwig pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're slow, Bruder. Francis told me already." The familiar obnoxious cackle flowed out of the phone again. "Why on earth are you laughing? This is no joking matter! Someone's dead, _um Gottes willen_! And Feliciano is so-"

"_Nein, nein,_ you don't get it, West! It's ironic~!"

"I-Ironic? Now you're just making fun of me, you...!"

"West, nobody's died!"

Ludwig paused, eyebrow now raising in curiosity. "Oh...? What do you mean...?"

"The Holy Roman Empire is actually-"

A small beep interrupted Ludwig's train of thought, causing him to look at the screen of his phone. An incoming call from...Sweden? Why would he be calling him, of all things? It must've been very important, to make him call so late at night.

"Um, hold on, _Bruder_. Something important has come up."

"But West-!"

Ludwig switched lines. "_Hallo,_ Germany speaking."

"Y'r b'fr'nd 's 'ere."

"W-What?"

"M' w'fe p'ck'd 'm 'p 'ff th' str't. 'E's m'k'n' 's d'nn'r."

"I see...May I-"

"J's' kn'ck b'f're y' c'm' 'n."

"Alright, thank you." Hanging up and completely forgetting about whatever his brother had to tell him, Ludwig quickly proceeded to his car, planning the fastest route to Sweden's house. What he'd do once there didn't matter. The most important thing was he needed to be with Feliciano.

Gilbert groaned and threw his phone off to the side in frustration ('off to the side' happening to mean at Roderich, though Basch quickly caught it). "I can't believe he hung up on me!"

"Huh, I wonder why." Basch threw the phone back at the Prussian. "Call around and find out where he went!"

"Why is it my job?" Gilbert whined, though already dialing some numbers.

"If you had just told someone about Holy Rome, this wouldn't be happening," Roderich said solemnly.

The albino scoffed. "I didn't think it mattered who Ludwig used to be."

* * *

Feliciano idly scrubbed the pots and pans he had used for cooking, starting blankly into space. From the dining room, he could hear the sound of Finland's happy chatter and laughter, and the occasional mumble of agreement from Sweden. He sighed, suddenly missing Ludwig more than ever. Hadn't their anniversary been coming up as well? Would Ludwig still want to celebrate it after all this? Man, he sure could use one of Ludwig's hugs right now, but that clearly wasn't going to happen any time soon.

He was startled out of his lonely daze by the sound of knocking at the door. "I-I'll get it! Don't you guys worry!"

Berwald had started to get up, but Feliciano bound over, assuring him it was alright, then skipped over to the door. The Swede leaned over in his chair to watch, as did his wife. They both watched as the door slowly opened, waiting to see the blonde, slicked back hair-

"YOU BASTARD! SO THIS IS WHERE YOU'VE BEEN!" Instead, an angry Italian came stomping in.

Tino nearly fell out of his chair. "R-Romano?" Berwald frowned and decided that he had had enough of dealing with people today, so he went back to eating his dinner quietly.

Feliciano sobbed and hugged his brother, who responded by swearing and throwing a fit. An apologetic Spaniard walked in.

"Sorry about them, Sweden, Finland. I'll take care of this." He flashed a charming smile, easily winning over Finland's approval.

Romano rolled his eyes, much less impressed. "Like hell you will, you Tomato-bastard." Antonio laughed cheerfully in response. Feliciano, meanwhile, said and did nothing, other than look at Antonio with bitterness reminiscent of his brother. Despite chastising himself earlier for holding those kinds of bitter feelings when it really wasn't anyone's fault, he still couldn't get over it. Not yet.

As Romano and Antonio continued to bicker/talk, Tino walked over to Feliciano, setting a hand on his shoulder. "Are you going to be alright?"

Feliciano smiled weakly. "I think I'll be doing a lot better. Thank you, both of you."

"Come on, let's hurry up. It's raining and I swear to God, if I get my favorite coat wet...!" Romano grabbed Feliciano's hand and dragged him out, Antonio apologizing once more before following them out.

Tino sat down at the table and resumed his romantic dinner with Berwald. After a few minutes of idle conversation, they eased back into the romantic mood, quickly forgetting about the worries of the other countries. The Swede smiled a bit, taking his wife's hand into his own. The latter blushed shyly, looking away a bit. Smile widening, Berwald lifted the hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss onto the soft skin. Tino's eyes fluttered. Pushing the food to the side, Berwald leaned forward to capture his wife's lips, hand still firmly in his own. The smaller man moaned slightly into the kiss, instinctively leaning forward to meet his lover with equal passion.

Just as Berwald was about to shove the table out of the way, heavy knocking was soon heard from the doorway. The Swede groaned, slightly lamenting his life while Tino pulled away and quickly scampered over to the door.

As soon as the door opened, Ludwig came bursting in. "Feliciano!"

"Germany..." Tino frowned. "You're too late."

"E-Eh?" The tall German man recoiled slightly, completely oblivious to what he had interrupted, caring about nothing other than his missing lover.

"Romano and Spain came and picked him up, they-"

Before Tino could finish, Ludwig had already left.

* * *

Feliciano sat silently in the car, gazing out of the window from the backseat. Lovino continued to whine and shout. "Honestly! We have to drive all this way out here just to get you because you go running off, and then we almost ran out of gas too, and I ate the last tomato we had halfway here and now I'm hungry and there's nothing to eat until we get home and it's late and raining and my hair got wet you son of a-"

However, Antonio was much more sensitive. "Feliciano?" The brunette looked up. "Do you want to talk about it...?"

He slowly shook his head, looking away once more, trying to avoid the Spaniard's gaze. All Feliciano wanted to at this point was just forget about everything. Maybe take a nice, long bath, sleep for awhile...

"You're such a pain in the ass!" Lovino groaned, resting his face against the cold glass. "Can't you take care of yourself for once?"

"You know, Lovino, when you were young, I had to do everything for you~."

"S-Shut up, bastard! I was just a child!" Antonio began to laugh heartily, while Lovino just rolled his eyes. "What about that time you were trying to _giocare a_ _matador_ and screwed up and got yourself hurt, and I had to help you?"

The Spaniard reached over and pinched the younger's cheek. "You helped me because you wanted to! You didn't 'have' to do anything, and you know it~!" Lovino began to blush and sputtered out a poor excuse. Antonio began to laugh again, causing the Southern Italian to flare up and begin cursing.

Feliciano smiled to himself. There was no way he could stay mad at Spain. After all, he was like a big brother to him, and he always took care of Romano when nobody else dared to try taming the boy. And of course, he was so sweet in general, always feeding him churros and...

While Feliciano was racked in thought, Lovino was busy screaming about nothing in particular, and Antonio was smiling and laughing, a sleek BMW with a startled blonde driver ran a red light and plowed into the side of the trio's car.

* * *

Antonio and Ludwig pushed the German's car out of the way, prying open the door on the passenger's side.

Lovino came tumbling out of the smashed car into Antonio's arms. He was visibly quivering, too shaken up to even throw profanities at the man who had crashed into them. Antonio pulled his lover close, stroking his cheek softly. "It's alright, Lovino. You're alright."

The door to the other Italian was a bit more badly damaged, but thanks to years of muscle work, Ludwig managed to pry it open by himself after only a bit of minor struggle. Feliciano immediately threw himself onto Ludwig, holding on for dear life. "L-Ludwig..."

"Feliciano," he murmured softly, holding the smaller man gently, pressing a kiss against his forehead. "I-"

"I'm sorry."

Ludwig paused, taken aback. "You...what?"

"I'm sorry," the Italian repeated again, hugging Ludwig close. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" he asked, running a rough hand through Feliciano's smooth hair.

"For everything. I...I should have told you why I left. And...if I hadn't run off, you wouldn't have been panicked and looking for me, and you wouldn't have..."

Ludwig frowned a bit, let out a small sigh, and pulled his lover into a kiss. Feliciano gasped and immediately melted into his arms, returning the gesture with great fervor, being separated from Ludwig for far too long. They remained locked together for what seemed like an eternity until Feliciano pulled away to breathe. He tried to look away, but Ludwig gently turned his chin so they were facing each other, eyes meeting. "Feliciano. None of this is your fault."

"But I...!"' The flustered Italian's big brown eyes began to well up. This time, Ludwig was right there by his side.

He gently wiped away the tears with his thumb, pressing a kiss to each corner of his lover's eyes. "Don't blame yourself for having loved someone." Feliciano's eyes widened. Ludwig smiled. "Francis told me. They all told me." The brunette began to look away again, ashamed, but Ludwig redirected him once more. "There's nothing wrong with it, Feliciano. He was a lucky guy to have had you."

Feliciano's eyes began to water once more, but this time, he wiped the tears away himself.

"I love you, Ludwig. It doesn't matter anymore. He doesn't matter. I love you!"

* * *

(_Epilogue_)

Gilbert cackled loudly, too amused to even be bother by Ivan's firm hold around him. "You crashed the BMW, West? I thought that was your favorite!"

Ludwig flushed, furrowing his brows. "You shouldn't tell me things like that suddenly when I'm driving...!"

"Did you tell Italy?" asked Ivan out of idle curiosity, smiling in similar amusement.

"I...no, I didn't."

"_Was?_" The albino sat up slightly. "Why not? I get all the crap for not telling people that you're the Holy Roman Empire, yet you're not even going to tell Feliciano?"

The muscular man shrugged. "He said that it didn't matter anymore. If it bothers him again, maybe I'll let you tell him. For now, I'll just let him remember Holy Rome as a boy he used to know."

Gilbert rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I think it would be adorable if you just told him." Ludwig chuckled. "It is rather romantic, isn't it West?"

"I suppose. It's still not important though."

"You're terrible at this."

However, around the corner, Feliciano covered his mouth, eyes wide open. Feliks snickered and pat his friend on the back. "I told you!"

"H-He's...he's actually...?" Feliks clapped his hands together, jumping up and down with schoolgirl enthusiasm.

"That's like, so totally cute though! Oh em gee, you guys have like, totally been in love for like, forever!"

A huge smile broke out on the Italian's face, the happiest he had been in centuries. "I can't believe he..." Feliciano's eyes glazed over, now lost in thought and overwhelmed by all the new information.

Feliks leaned in, cheeks puffed out. "So, you guys gonna have wild sex tonight?"

_End._


End file.
